224 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Ifl'n Cfjoitc. 
There is a light within her eye, that fires every gaze, 
And a rosy smile upon her lip that a joyous heart betrays: 
And a fairy frolic in her form that makes each motion seem 
As graceful as the bounding course of a laughing moun- 
tain stream. 
The long and jetty lash that hides the deep eyes’ blacker 
hue — 
The rival roses in her cheek, her white brow’s veins of blue, 
Her gentle and her joyous laugh, and the music of her voice 
Have won my si>irit unto her, and she shall be my choice. 
Her spirit is all gentleness, and yet her bearing high, 
And passionate thoughts sleep sweetly in the circle of her 
eye; 
A pride as pure as delicate seems in her breast to dwell, 
And breathes around her foiun the charm and magic of a 
speM. 
So gentle, not a shaft of wit in malice does she dip, 
And satire’s self comes smilingly and sweetly from her lip. 
And her look and tone, whene’er I meet, they make my 
heart rejoice, 
And win my spirit unto her, and she shall be my choice. 
There may be eyes as deeply dark, and brows as lofty too, 
And cheeks as softly blended, and as beautiful of hue; 
And gentle hearts, with gentle thoughts, and gentleness 
of words ; 
And voices like to hers, that mock the music of spring 
birds. 
